


Turn, Turn, Turn

by princessoftheworlds



Series: It's not a crime to love what you cannot explain [6]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Compliant, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 13:04:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6567511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessoftheworlds/pseuds/princessoftheworlds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Caroline Forbes is a hacktivist for an organization called the Rising Tide. Then, secret government agency SHIELD kidnaps her...</p><p>Day Five of Spring Klaroline AU Week 2016</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turn, Turn, Turn

When Caroline Forbes is eighteen-years-old, she runs away from Saint Agnes Orphanage and joins the Rising Tide, a hacktivist organization that exposes conspiracies to the world.

When Caroline Forbes is twenty-one, she meets Josh Rozsa who becomes her mentor and moves into a van.

When Caroline Forbes is twenty-three, her life transforms considerably.

~

“The secret is out. For decades, your organization stayed in the shadows, hiding the truth. But, now, we know. They’re among us, heroes and monsters. The world is full of wonders. We can’t explain everything we see, but our eyes are open.” Caroline drags the microphone closer to here, her voice taking on a more challenging tone. “So what now? There are no more shadows for you to hide in. Something impossible just happened. What are you going to do about it? How will you come at us? From the air? From the ground? How will you silence us this time? How can you? The truth is in the wind. It’s everywhere. You cannot stop the Rising Tide.” She smirks deviously, continuing passionately. “You will not find us, you will never see our faces, but rest assured, we will rise against those who shield us from the truth. And, nothing, nothing can stop us in the-”

Her van door slides open suddenly to reveal two men, both predictably donning black suits. The older one, possibly in his early forties, is handsome with crinkled laugh lines around his blue eyes and dusky brown hair, arms crossed loosely in an authoritative stance.

The younger one, judged by Caroline to be in his late twenties, stands stiffly, so sinfully gorgeous that it is must be a crime. His striking dark blue eyes are devoid of any indistinguishable emotion, and his face, though chiseled sharply with a sloping nose and narrow bone structure, is blank and lacks expression. He holds himself in a semi-relaxed posture, shoulders free of tension but elegant fingers clearly itching for a gun from the manner in which they are curling inwards.

 “Hey, what up?” Caroline responds with an awkward smile, like the kid caught with sticky fingers, waving sheepishly at both government agents.

There is a bag thrown over her head, and Caroline, barely given time to attempt to struggle, is dragged out of her van and forced down onto her knees.

She stares at the complicated weave of the cloth bag, small pinpricks of light filtering in from the gaps, and breathes slowly and carefully, regulating her breathing to avoid hyperventilating. Caroline feels a sharp prick at the base of her neck, the tell-tale edge of a syringe’s needle digging into her skin, as unidentified liquid is loaded into her bloodstream.

The sedative kicks in quickly, her body crumpling as her muscles numb and her knees give way beneath her. Caroline’s vision blurs the inside of the bag into a swarm of darkness.

~

She comes to with a startle when the bag is yanked from her head, the light from the overhead fluorescent bulbs spilling into her face.

Caroline blinks drowsily, shielding her face from the sudden onslaught of brightness, and observes her surroundings.

She is seated at a standard metal table in some type of cell, with armor-like material on the walls, the older agent seated in front of her and the younger agent behind her, leaning causally against the wall, eyes narrowing in calculation.

“You can’t do this!” Caroline erupts immediately. “I’m innocent! I have rights. People will know that you have me!” Her tirade is ended when the senior agent tilts his head in a silent demand for her to quiet down.

“My name is Agent Alaric Saltzman of SHIELD. Behind you is my associate Special Agent Klaus Mikaelson. Do you know why you’re here?” he asks conversationally in a kind tone that Caroline can only believe is to lure her into false confessions.

She opens her mouth to speak but is cut off by Agent Mikaelson who pushes himself off the wall with a grunt.

“Save it,” he orders gruffly in a lilting British accent that is totally not what Caroline expects. “We know anything you spew will be a fistful of lies.” Ignoring her “Hey!” of protest, he continues soberly, “We know your name is Caroline Forbes. We know that you are twenty-four years old, and your temporary residence has been a van for the previous two years.”

Agent Saltzman shrugs at her apologetically before taking over the interrogation. “You popped up on our radar five years ago, for your hacking exploits. We know that you were responsible for the exposure of the Guerrera Wolf Syndicate and for uncovering the cover-up of the death of Andie Starr. We also know that you have been in recent contact with a possible powered person.”

“Oh,” Caroline replies quietly, all the fight drained out of her.

“Where is Vicki Donovan?” Mikaelson demands, joining Agent Saltzman on the other side of the table.

“Who?” Her brows furrow in false bewilderment, and she nibbles on her lower lips nervously. She whoops internally when Agent Mikaelson’s eyes flash indignantly and he opens his mouth, only to be cut off by Saltzman.

“Ms. Forbes, do you remember what the Battle of New York was?”

Caroline nods silently before realizing that Saltzman had expected a verbal reply. “A billionaire with a fancy suit of armor, a hot guy who should have died seventy years ago, some kind of Norse god, a big green Hulk-thingy, and two of your agents titled themselves the Avengers and fought off a bunch of aliens called Chitauri in New York last year,” she rambles in explanation.

“Good,” Agent Saltzman says in approval. “We know Ms. Donovan is associated with Centipede, an organization attempting to give ordinary people powers. They have given Ms. Donovan a robotic exoskeleton that has melded to her skin, amplifying her strength and speed.”

“Yeah,” Caroline retorts before she can control herself. “They’re doing more than you are. I won’t let you hurt Vicki.”

“Ms. Forbes.” Saltzman sighs resignedly, rubbing the bridge of his nose and inhaling sharply. “SHIELD does want to capture Ms. Donovan but for her own protection.”

“Really?” Caroline arches a thin, finely-shaped eyebrow.

“Agent Mikaelson,” Saltzman calls to his colleague.

Mikaelson flips a switch on the wall, powering on a projector that magnifies a reel of news reports onto the opposing wall.

Caroline reads the headlines in apprehension:

_Super-powered Menace Attacks Factory Owner_

_Out-of-control Cyborg Kills Two_

_Apartment Building Set On Fire as Power Assailant Flees Scene_

She swallows roughly. “Fine. I will tell you where Vicki Donovan is.”

~

She is led into a lab and introduced to the rest of the team.

Katherine Pierce, a stunning olive-skinned brunette in her mid-thirties with solemn brown eyes, is the team’s pilot and other Special Agent

Lexi Branson, a beautiful blonde with a round face, is a bio-chemist, and Stefan Salvatore, an awkward brunet with olive-green eyes, is the engineer/tech-specialist.

And, of course, there is Special Agent Klaus Mikaelson, the irritating pain in her ass.

Caroline has to poke him to indeed make sure that he is flesh and blood, so motionless and silent he stays.

He lingers around the lab, watching Caroline vigilantly as she fiddles with Lexi and Stefan’s holographic table.

“We should analyze the fragments from the apartment building,” Lexi says decisively. “We can identify the material the exoskeleton is made of.”

“And what do you want to do?” Stefan challenges, eyes blazing determinedly. “Fly over LA, searching for the same material with a scanner, hoping to find Donovan? Be practical, Lexi.”

Lexi flushes, about to retort boldly, when Caroline interrupts.

“Wait!”

Their attention snaps to Caroline as if they had forgotten she was there.

Mikaelson eyes her, Caroline shuddering under his thorough gaze. She shoots him a saucy wink, and Mikaelson rolls his eyes in irritation.

Caroline celebrates internally; she had managed to provoke into showing some emotion of a larger spectrum. 

“There were cameras in the building, right?” She continues when Lexi and Stefan nod simultaneously. “If I can extract a clip of Vicki, I can feed it into the city’s security database and search for a match.” She takes over a computer and begins typing wildly away.

The three SHIELD agents crowd around her until Caroline snaps, “Quit hovering over me!” Then they move on to wander the lab, Mikaelson polishing his gun with a spare greasy rag.

“Found her,” Caroline announces an hour later.

Lexi and Stefan are by her side in minutes. “Where?” Lexi questions.

“Grand Central Station,” Stefan reads off Caroline’s screen.  
“Great!” Mikaelson snaps his gun back together. “Let’s inform Saltzman and Pierce, and then get this show on the road.”

~

When all is well and over, and Vicki Donovan and her brother Matt have been taken into SHIELD’s custody, Caroline approaches Agent Saltzman with a request.

“I want to join SHIELD,” she tells him quietly.

“What?” Saltzman spews out his black coffee in shock. “Why?”

“I grew up in an orphanage in New York,” Caroline explains passionately. “My real name isn’t even Caroline, probably. I named myself Caroline Forbes. I want to find my parents, and I think SHIELD can help me do that.”

“I understand that, Caroline, but you must realize that SHIELD cannot take in civilians.” Saltzman frowns apologetically.

“I’ll become an agent,” Caroline replies rapidly.

Agent Saltzman hums thoughtfully. “That may work. You would need an SO though.”

“A what?”

“A supervising officer. I can’t be yours; I would have to lead the team. Salvatore and Branson are not qualified. Pierce will refuse absolutely. Mikaelson will have to do.”

Caroline gapes at Saltzman in shock. “I’m sorry; I must have misheard. Did you say Klaus Mikaelson, like Agent Robot Mikaelson? You know, the one who has barely shown any emotion since I met him.”

“You heard me clearly, Caroline.” Saltzman sighs, his shoulders tense, trailing a hand over the rim of his mug. “He is the only one qualified if you wish to become an agent. But-”

“I’ll do it!” Caroline states determinedly before Saltzman can suggest something else completely unsatisfactory. “I’ll stick with Mikaelson as my SO if I must have a SO. I’ll do it.”

~

The first thing Mikaelson does is demand that Caroline show him how to throw a punch.

When she cannot successfully meet his challenge, he groans and murmurs something about “Rookie civilians wanting to play spy.”

“Excuse me!” Caroline says furiously. She lunges for Mikaelson’s gun, sitting on the bench besides her, and scoops it up before he can protest and fires two shots. One bullet strikes the chain holding the punching bag up, and it tumbles to the ground. The other buries itself in the wall, inches above Mikaelson’s head.

He flinches at the sudden sound but is left gazing admiringly at Caroline’s handiwork and perfect aim. “How did you do that?” Mikaelson wonders appreciatively. “Your stance and aim was exact.”

Caroline shrugs nonchalantly, though her wild blushing betrays her attitude. “I had a foster mom who was a sheriff in a small town,” she admits. “I’m pretty good at shooting.”

“Pretty good?” Mikaelson breathes in apprehension, his eyebrows raised incredulously. “You’re almost as bloody good as Pierce, and that woman is called the Cavalry. She’s a one-woman army.”

“Thanks.”

“So you have given me something to work with,” Mikaelson states grudgingly. “I will stay your SO, but, only if you obey whatever order I give you.”

His accent is so smooth, so intoxicating. Caroline wants to hear that voice moaning her name. “Good,” she says breathily, almost seductively. A moment later, she shrinks in embarrassment, cheeks flaring an alarming shade of red.

Mikaelson does not taunt her or reply, though his eyes darken considerably. “Call me Klaus,” he demands quietly.

“Caroline. Call me Caroline,” she requests in exchange.

And, damn, if it is not worth it to hear her name crooned from those gorgeous crimson lips.

~

“You aren’t trying hard enough,” Klaus tells Caroline grouchily as they stand several feet apart on the training mats.

“I am!” Caroline complains in response.

“It doesn’t look like it.” Klaus rakes a hand through his messy curls, sighing heavily. “Attack me. Again. Properly, this time.”

Caroline settles into an offensive stance, arms held ready in front of her, prepared for Klaus’ first attack.

Which doesn’t come.

Klaus remains standing opposite her, raising an eyebrow expectantly. “Well, then.” He gestures between them. “Have at it, love. Attack me.”

With a silent roar of fury at the irritating pet name, Caroline launches herself at the Brit, dodging below his attempted roundhouse kick. She feints a blow to the left side of his ribs and dives for his right shoulder. But Klaus catches on perceptively, and Caroline finds herself pinned to the floor, eyes to the ground, as he spreads a palm flat against her back to hold her down and wrenches her right arm with his other almost painfully.

His palm is warm and steady against the small of her back, and she can feel his heat soaking through her cotton singlet.

“Well,” Klaus announces, releasing her. “Nice attempt to feint. Decent.”

Caroline stretches, straightening up, and is about to crow in triumph when he follows it up with a “Not good enough.”

Oh, she hates, hates, hates, being told that she is not good enough for something. It stems from her subconscious fear of abandonment or something, some bullshit that psychologists that she was forced to meet with in foster care spewed.

“I’ll show you,” she growls threateningly at Klaus.

He smirks in amusement. “Show me, then.”

She lunges forward but once again finds herself slammed down the mat. “Stop!” she cries to Klaus. “Just stop being so damn fast.”

Klaus cocks his head, deep in thought. “You cannot request an opponent to slow down in a fight, Caroline,” he tells her hurriedly.

“Fine. One last time!” Caroline decides, adjusting her leggings as sweat trickles down her back. She knows exactly what she’ll do this time around.

But Klaus surprises her by stripping his shirt off. He has a lean torso and muscled back, a tattoo of a flock of birds inked in black on his right shoulder.

Caroline’s mouth goes dry as she follows small blond hairs down into the waistband of his loose pants, and she understands that Klaus has made a desperate ploy to distract her.

She charges at him, aiming all her weight at his face. When he moves to shield his upper torso, she strikes between his shoulder blades, and he stumbles lightly. He aims a blow at her soft stomach, and she dodges backward, swiping at his neck.

He catches her off-balance with a roundhouse kick to her ribs that send her tumbling to the mat, but moments later, Caroline bounces back up and grabs at his ankle to trip him.

Klaus hits the mat with a thud and lays there stunned for a moment. Caroline climbs onto of him, straddling his waist.

“Haha!” She taps his nose in triumph. “I’ve defeated you.”

“Once, love. Once.” He groans in soreness, rubbing at his side.

Caroline’s ribs ache hollowly, but she ignores them. She shifts her weight on Klaus’ chest, and her core brushes against his groin. She moans in sudden pleasure.

They both freeze, Caroline breathing shakily and Klaus’ gaze zeroing in on her trembling lip.

“Brilliant job, love,” he congratulates her carefully. His eyes have darkened with lust, and he breathes quickly.

Caroline can feel his heart beating rapidly below her palm that rests flat on his chest. “Nice tattoo,” she compliments airily, trailing her hand over the bumps and curves of his chest and to the tattoo.

He sucks a breath in as Caroline leans closer to hover her lips above his. He is a mess, falling apart in her hands, chest rising and falling in fast succession, eyes blown large with lust, curls a riotous swarm.

Suddenly, there is Stefan at the door of the training room. “Am I interrupting something?” he asks awkwardly, eyes averted.

They scramble off each other in a panic, moving to separate corners in the room.

“No,” Caroline denies hastily.

“Do you need anything, Salvatore?” Klaus questions demandingly.

“Just looking for Caroline,” Stefan replies, appearing a little flustered by both what he was witness to and Klaus’ tone.

“I’ll come.” Caroline gathers her things in her arms and glances at Klaus. “Same time tomorrow?” she asks him who nods in agreement. Then she turns and follows Stefan out the door.

~

Some number of weeks later, the team has a mission at Lexi’s and Stefan’s old SHIELD academy. It is an intense and emotional experience, a rogue agent loose on the campus, and Caroline finds herself under the target of the agent’s gun until Klaus tackles him to the ground, pummeling his head in.

Afterwards, Caroline, hands still quivering from the experience, approaches Klaus hesitantly. “You saved me,” she tells him in confusion.

“Of course, I did,” he grunts in reply. “I’m your SO; I’m responsible for your life. It falls in my hands to protect you until you are fully-trained.”

“Still,” Caroline drawls nervously. “You weren’t required to bash his head in.”

“I was mad,” Klaus admits, crystalline eyes falling to the floor. “He was aiming for teenagers, for innocent kids who were barely-adults, because of what they were, agents in training. I had a baby brother, Henrik, who had been the same age. He was shot to death in a shooting in his high school. I could not save him.”

She breathes out in shock and bewilderment. “Oh, I am so, so sorry. I never knew my family. I could only make friends, really good ones. But they weren’t family.” As the silence falls awkwardly around them, Caroline continues conversationally, “Do you have any more siblings?”

Klaus chuckles mildly, his hands tugging at one of the many beaded necklaces that are always slung around his neck. “Loads. Plenty of family that I cannot get rid of.”

“That’s nice.” Caroline hums thoughtfully. She chews her bottom lip anxiously. “Listen, would you like to come back to my room, get a drink or something?”

Klaus’ face is apprehensive, lips pursued into a frown. Clearly, he was not expecting that. “I’m sincerely sorry, Caroline, but I am already busy tonight. Maybe another time.”

He leaves too quickly to see how her face falls.

Later, that evening, Caroline wanders to Katherine’s quarters and pounds on the door. “Hey, Katherine. Are you in there? Lexi and I are going to the hotel bar downstairs while we can, before we get up in the air again. Do you want to come?”

The door is flung open, and Klaus stands there, white towel wrapped around waist, hair damp and plastered to his head. “Caroline…” he trails off in bewilderment.

“Klaus.” Suddenly, she finds her mouth dry; it is hard to swallow. “So these are your plans.”

“I am so sorry, Caroline,” he starts apologetically, face pained.

“It’s fine.” Caroline waves him off, but they both know that she’s lying.

From inside the room, Katherine calls in boredom, “Come back to bed, Klaus. You left me unsatisfied. Who is it anyway?”

Caroline chokes. Her breaths are coming quickly and sparsely. She regulates the rise and fall of her chest carefully.

“It’s Caroline.” Klaus turns to inform Katherine inside the room, but when he returns to the door, Caroline is gone.

She darts through the floors of the hotel, up on set of stairs, and to Lexi’s room. Pounding on the door, she barges in when the other blonde opens it, collapsing on the couch. “I’ll need that drink now,” Caroline tells Lexi, barely holding her tears at bay.

~

The two gorgeous blondes perch on the barstools in the hotel bar, lost in their conversation, as men ogle them openly from behind.

Lexi, having shed her nerdy sweater vests momentarily, is attractively-dressed in a simple, thin-strapped, mid-thigh black dress with a lace trim paired with black strappy heels and a silver etched pendant necklace, hair straightened completely flat, her makeup light but with the exception of her dark smoky-eye.

Caroline takes a different approach, donning a navy blue shift dress with a coral and red floral print and coral pumps, her hair tied back in a complicated fishtail bread, makeup light and natural. She is channeling girly cheerleader Caroline Forbes from high school, not bad-ass hacktivist Caroline Forbes as she has been for the last few years.

She tosses back a shot glass full of bourbon, grimacing as the liquor burns down her throat. It is darkly sweet with a hint of some oaky flavor, but Caroline is far up in her plan to drink until she blacks out and doesn’t care for what she drinks. “Ugh,” she says with a shudder as she swings around on her barstool to face Lexi, hair flopping around with her momentum.

Lexi giggles while Caroline spits golden hair out of her mouth. “So, why did you need that drink?” she inquires snoopily, stealthy signaling the bartender to fill their remaining glasses with water instead of vodka. She doesn’t want a momentous hangover tomorrow when the team is scheduled to return to the plane.

Drunkenly, Caroline shakes her head rapidly, snorting in laughter when her braid flops back in her face. “What? Oh. Klaus rejected me,” she tells Lexi in a sudden sullen mood swing.

Lexi has the decency to not ask what happened. Instead, she clasps a gentle hand over Caroline’s and questions, “And how did that make you feel?”

“Are you tryin’ to psychoanalyze me?” Caroline startles before bursting into giggles. Becoming sober, she replies, “At first, I was embarrassed and a little ashamed. But I shrugged it off and went up to Katherine’s room, you know, to ask if she wanted to come with you and me. But, guess what?”

“What?” Lexi steadies Caroline as she begins to slump forward into the bar counter. “No more alcohol for you,” she tells the other blonde authoritatively. “Now, what happened?”

“I found Klaus, Klaus Mikaelson, the guy who rejected me, naked in Katherine’s hotel room. Well, fine,” she pauses to consider thoughtfully. “He was wearing a towel, but he was near naked in another woman’s room, right after he rejected me.”

Jaw dropping, Lexi blubbers in shock, attempting to say something reassuring. Finally, she resigns herself to bashfully stating, “But Klaus and Katherine despise each other.”

“Exactly!” Caroline cries triumphantly. “See.” She thrusts a well-manicured finger at Lexi forcefully, though it points above her head instead at her face, the alcohol throwing Caroline’s balance off. “You get me.”

Lexi frowns, her lips pursuing in concern. “Are you okay? You seem to be taking this pretty hard.”

“Let me tell you something, Lexi,” she says loudly. “When I was in high school, I spent three years in a small town called Mystic Falls because of my then foster parents. Everyone knew that I was an orphan. I was head cheerleader, had the highest grades in each class, was on every committee. But all the boys chose mousy little April Young over me. She wasn’t even that beautiful, just exotic in small-town Virginia. I, I was, insecure. I always said the wrong things; April somehow always said the right things.” Caroline slips her head to the counter, resting it on her hand, her voice drowning in vulnerability. “I was shallow, like a kiddie pool. Even before that, families would never choose me in Saint Agnes, because apparently, parents wanted an energetic and high-achieving kid, but not one who was bossy and high-management. Mystic Falls was the longest I’d ever stayed with a family, the last family in fact. I ran away from the orphanage when I was eighteen.”

“So you have a fear of being rejected,” Lexi surmises concisely.

“I was always the second choice. April was always the first…” By her final sentence, Caroline’s hand falters, and her head hits the counter with a quiet thud, snoring peacefully.

“Is she okay?” the bartender comes over and asks carefully.

“Yeah. I’ll call someone to help me take her back upstairs.” Lexi fishes her phone out from her leather clutch and hits the speed dial number for Stefan. Turning her attention back to Caroline as the phone line rings, she whispers, “There is no need for you to feel inferior to Katherine for anything. We’ve all seen the way you and Klaus look at each other.”

~

“Caroline,” Stefan calls as Caroline hunches over her laptop the next morning, fingers flying with incredible speed, “Saltzman wants to see you in his office.”

“Why?” Caroline sits up, shutting her laptop and placing it aside, startled. “What happened? What did I do?”

“Dunno?” He shrugs causally. “I don’t think it’s anything good from the grim way Saltzman looked.”

With a sigh, Caroline heaves herself up and stretches her sore calf muscles before making her way out of the lab.

On the way to Saltzman’s office, she passes Klaus who, upon spotting her, calls her name sheepishly.

“Later,” she mouths to him, attempting to school her features into a neutral expression. She may have been nursing off last night’s master hangover, but that didn’t mean that she had to ruin her relationship with her SO or Agent Saltzman.

Arriving in front of Saltzman’s office, Caroline rubs her eyes blearily once, tossing her head back with confidence, and twists the doorknob, strolling in. “You called for me, ‘Ric?”

“Caroline, sit down, please.” Saltzman does not glance up from where he is signing files with quick flourishes.

Stefan may have been right; Caroline decides that upon examining the expression of Saltzman’s face. He appears completely sober and focused on his task, but his brows had already knit together in dread upon her arrival.

“Caroline, in the last couple months since you officially joined SHIELD as a trainee, I have been investigating your parents or anything I can find.” Saltzman clears files from his desk, dumping them into his drawers built into his desk.

Despite having told herself that she did not care about her origins, Caroline feels a warm spark of hope rise in her chest for the first time in years. “And,” she asks nervously.

“I am sorry, Caroline.” Saltzman places a bundle of files in front of a quivering Caroline.

She tears into the files, finding only a large number of redacted documents with blacked out dates and names and a copy of her Saint Agnes records and high school GED. “This is it?” Her face darkens with indistinguishable emotions, a shadow passing through her azure eyes.

Saltzman attempts to shrug, but his voice is full of apology when he speaks next. “SHIELD found you as a four month-year-old in a small town in France. The house you were in was decimated. Two agents died getting you out.”

Her gaze narrows as Caroline’s mouth falls open in shock. “What? Why?”

“You had been identified as a 0-8-4, an unidentifiable unknown.”

“But I was a child!” Caroline protests in disgust.

“I do not know much, Caroline.” Saltzman sighs heavily. “I know that your parents were not in the scene when SHIELD arrived. They could have been missing; they could have abandoned you. They could have been dead. But, you were undernourished and clearly had been born premature but not properly cared for since your birth.”

“SHIELD rescued me.” Caroline comes to a sudden realization. “My parents could still be out there, though. Maybe, I was kidnapped.” She falters in her passionate speech as Saltzman’s gaze turns dismayed.

“You cannot focus on this, Caroline. There is a mission for you, solely you. I suggest you focus on that.”

“What mission?” Caroline inquires suspiciously. “Why only me?”

“There is a party on a foreign European Island off the coast of Spain that has declared itself neutral territory, like Belgium. We have info that there will be a very illegal trade deal going down on during the party between two business leaders who have been on SHIELD’s watch list for a while now.”

“What’s the catch?” Caroline smiles triumphantly when Saltzman startles at her acceptance of the mission.

“No government-affiliated guests are invited, and they are all banned. We know that the Rising Tide can score you an invitation. You simply need to gain proof of the trade deal.”

“That sounds basic enough.” Caroline nods respectfully.

“It should be a simple mission,” Saltzman agrees. “In and out. Agent Mikaelson will help you prep.”

Biting her lip hard enough for it to bleed, Caroline leaves Saltzman’s office, finding herself in the plane’s spacious lounge.

“Klaus,” she whispers to the Brit seated on the white couch, sketching on a loose leaf of paper.

“Caroline.” Klaus lunges to his feet, swiveling to face her in apprehension. “I am sorry about last night. I never meant to hurt you.”

“No, Klaus,” she replies quietly, all the strength having been drained out of her at the news of her parents. “I don’t care.”

“You must know, love, even then. What Katherine and I have is a purely physical relationship. Sex is our outlet for channeling our emotions. Every Special Agent needs an outlet; you will too, once you start going on missions.”

“I have one,” she says in an inaudible voice.

He smirks characteristically. “That’s bloody fantastic.” Staring straight into Caroline’s soft eyes, his devilish expression falters. “What’s wrong, love?”

That is the last straw. Caroline’s lip begins to quiver as tears well up in the corners of her eyes, blurring her vision. “My parents abandoned me in a village in France. SHIELD actually saved me from death. My own parents didn’t want me. No one ever wants me. It’s a curse.”

“Come here, Caroline.” Klaus beckons her into his arms, wrapping her securely in his hold. “I have understood what is feels to be unwanted. Trust me. You are wanted here. You belong to this team. We are your family.”

She sniffles into his cotton Henley, warm tears soaking the thin grey fabric, nodding rhythmically as he speaks in his lilting accent.

“Hey.” He grabs her jaw tenderly, forcing her to gaze up at him. “You are wanted,” Klaus reassures her, brushing tears away with the gentle swipe of his thumb. One hand slides to cradle the back of her head. “You are wanted. I want you.” He swoops down and softly locks his lips with Caroline’s.

He tastes faintly sour, like lemons and some ancient, incredibly expensive cologne with a fancy French name that makes her head spin, but not unpleasantly.

They sway together in their locked embrace, in their own private bubble, kissing softly and sweetly, all heart-felt emotion pouring out, as Caroline rises on her tiptoes and slings an arm around Klaus’ neck, toying with downy baby hairs at the base of his neck.

After several long peaceful moments, they break apart, though Caroline remains in Klaus’ arms, warm and content and _wanted_.

Klaus strokes her hair distractedly, resting his chin on the top of her head in a perfect fit. “I will reunite you find your parents, Caroline,” he murmurs into her sun-kissed skin as she hums blissfully.

~

“ _Tyler Lockwood is there in the corner_ ,” Katherine orders through the comm, disguised as a diamond earing in Caroline’s ears, as the blonde present in the actual mansion surveys the guests. “ _Olive-skinned, dark-haired. Spanish origin. He’s a rich kid, businessman, owns Lockwood Worldwide Corporations._ ”

“Got him,” Caroline whispers discretely as the microphone built into the necklace at her delicate throat transmits the message.

Built by Stefan, the microphone measures the vibrations of Caroline’s vocal chords without her having to speak out loud and transmits into to the receiver, which Katherine has currently. It is set into an incredibly beautiful silver necklace that contrasts nicely with the sheer white, bell-sleeved mini-dress Caroline dons for the party.

Stefan has also given her a camera hidden in a black clutch that can fit a small Night-Night gun (a revolver outfitted with pellets that release sedatives instead of actual bullets) for anyone who stumbles into Caroline’s path.

She now grips the clutch tightly, trailing Tyler Lockwood as he disappeared into a maze of hallways, a dusty brunet stepping closely behind the billionaire. “Who’s the other one?” Caroline hisses low in her throat.

“ _Atticus Shane_ ,” Katherine grunts in reply, attempting to clear her throat. “ _Some history professor at NYU, don’t really know why SHIELD is watching him_.”

“Okay.” Out of the corner of her eye, Caroline notices a gorgeous brunette who shares the tiniest bit of resemblance with Katherine exiting the elevator. Her hair is pin-straight, hanging loosely, and she wears an obviously designer blue cocktail dress with lace. “Hey, Katherine, you don’t have sisters, right?”  
“ _What_?” Katherine replies in shock.

“Nothing. Bad joke. Thought I saw someone who looked like you.” Caroline maneuvers her way down the stairs to the basement, stepping lightly to avoid making too much sound. At the base of the stairs, in front of the door, she unearths the Night-Night gun from her clutch, leaving the clutch strapped to her inner forearm discretely.

Caroline kicks the door open with a bang and finds two guards making eye contact with her.

One of the guards prepares to call for assistance, but Caroline knocks him out with one blast to the head.

His partner lunges towards her, but she dodges, grabbing him in a nonlethal chokehold. She regulates his breathing until he falls unconscious and then leaves him slumped on the floor on top of his partner.

“ _What was that_?” Katherine demands.

“Knocked two guards out,” Caroline hisses irately in reply.

“ _Good_.”

Caroline proceeds with caution further on through the basement, suspiciously finding no more guards or security until she reaches the north most room, which is completely empty.

“Katherine,” she whispers with concern. “Something’s wrong.”

“You are right about that,” comes a voice behind her.

She swivels around quickly, the voice before her belonging to none other than the woman she saw exiting the elevators.

Up close, the woman’s doe-eyed stare narrows in disgust. “SHIELD sending a baby agent to do their dirty work.” She aims a gun, a real gun, sleek metal glistening, at Caroline, her target focused on Caroline’s heart.

“ _Caroline? What’s going on? Caroline!_ ” Katherine calls, panicked, in her ear. “ _Caroline. Answer, goddammit!_ ”

The woman places pressure on the gun’s trigger, her fingers wrapping around the handle more securely. Her hands do not sway. At the last possible moment, she changes her aim.

There is a loud bang echoing across the comms with the screechy sound of static, Katherine yelling frantically in Caroline’s ear.

But Caroline hears none of this.

Her palms go to cover the wound in her stomach where crimson blood spills out with speed. The thick liquid flows over her hands, and she glances down slowly as she stumbles back.

Then the impact hits, the shock, the extreme pain, and Caroline releases one whimper of agony, of intense torment, a single noise of complaint that Katherine can hear very clearly.

Caroline crumples to the ground.

~

The low beeping of machines rouses Caroline from her drowsy states, and her entire body feels sore and stiff, as if she hasn’t moved in months.

Her eyes flutter slowly open to reveal a stark white ceiling with flickering hospital lights and the concerned, ashen faces of her team.

She blinks groggily, realizing that she is laying in a full-on medical pod and heart monitors are hooked up to her body. “What happened?” she asks, voice slurring badly.

Saltzman is first to respond. “Caroline,” he answers gently. “You were shot.”

The memory comes back to her with a bang, and her hands fly to cover the wound.

But there is no wound, only a faint scar glistening on her pale naked torso, her shirt rolled a little above her belly button.

“What?” she gasps, stuttering apprehensively. “How long ago? What happened?”  
“You were shot on the Lockwood mission, love,” Klaus reminds her gently, his hand laying on hers as he strokes her palm in calming motions.

The rest of the team is undisturbed by his public display of affection; they all know how the two agents felt about each other.

“How long ago?” Caroline repeats harshly.

“Two weeks. You were on the brink of life and death.” Katherine scowls at her from where she stands next to Stefan. “You freaked us out.” Her usually-hardened dark eyes are shadowed with concern.

“How did I survive?”

“The team flew on a crazy mission to find the serum that was used to bring Saltzman back to life. We nearly lost you a couple times,” Stefan replies confidently.

“You died,” Caroline asks Saltzman in confusion, her eyes widening.

“We’ll tell you that later,” Klaus tells Caroline offhandedly.

Stefan continues with his explanation. “The serum had elements of foreign biology that melded with you own DNA and speeded up your healing. The meld may have been permanent.”

She sucks in a harsh breath. “Is that bad?”

“Caroline, do you understand?” Lexi inquires gently. “The alien DNA joined with your DNA, because it was already part of your DNA.”

Her jaw drops in bewilderment. “Are you saying that I’m part alien?” Caroline demands in a bold voice.

~

“Last year,” Saltzman explains with a heavy set to his shoulders. “I was killed by a Norse god-alien person.”

Caroline gapes at Saltzman, flabbergasted of how a man who claims to be dead is standing in front of her, healthy and alive and pure flesh. But, then again, there was an alien invasion last year. The world has only gotten weirder.

To the rest of the team gathered in the plane’s lounge, though, it seems old news.

“Wait, you guys knew this?” Caroline’s voice breaks. She eyes everyone, including Klaus, in suspicion.

“Everyone knows that Alaric Saltzman died last year. Very few people, including us, know that he was resurrected.” Katherine twirls a slim knife between her fingers, balancing it on her knuckles, as she responds without glancing towards Caroline.

Saltzman speaks quickly before Caroline can ask any more questions. “I was brought to life through an intense surgical process involving the same serum we injected you with. Except that my body kept rejecting the serum while yours never did.” He levels the blonde with a sober stare. “We did not know why.”

“But,” Lexi jumps in. “After an examination of your blood interacting with the serum and experimenting, we found only one conclusion-”

“That I’m an alien,” Caroline concludes.

“Or part alien,” Stefan corrects feebly as she glares at him in fury.

“Not helping!” she exclaims, suddenly overwhelmed by this flood of information. “I go from being an orphan who has never known her parents to not even being completely of this world.”

Saltzman smiles at her reassuringly. “We understand, Caroline, and we will continue to research into this. But, momentarily, we have slightly more pressing concerns.”

“Like who in this organization is a bloody traitor, love,” Klaus growls in rage, fists clenching by his side. “There is no way the bitch who shot you could have known you were with SHIELD unless she had someone on the inside.”

Caroline places a calming hand on Klaus’ shoulder who relaxes under her touch. Katherine steps up, sheathing her knife and waving a hand above the holograph table which flickers with a dull light before coming to life. She projects a record of locations and timings, all listed under Agent ID numbers. “This is all the locations of everyone on this plane in the last three weeks but you. We are tracked by chips for emergency cases in our badges, but you, not being a full-fledged agent yet, don’t have one. But, still,” she explains rapidly. “That rules out everyone on this plane from being the traitor.”

“So, I’ll get right on it. I just need to grab my laptop and…” Caroline trails off at Stefan’s sudden nod of refusal.

“I am sorry, Caroline, but the next couple days are bedrest for you, until Lexi and I check that you are completely healed and have no side effects from the serum.”

~

There are blaring alarm sirens as the plane’s emergency lights kick in, dowsing the interior of the plane in a reddish glow.

Caroline rockets out of her bunk and rushes to wrench the sliding doors of her quarters apart as the plane swerves in its flight course.

“’Ric!” Caroline calls in panic. “’Ric, what’s going on?” When her SO appears by her side in a cotton shirt and sweats, she grips his hand firmly and glances into his hardened dark eyes, asking, “Klaus? What’s happening?”

The Brit replies grimly, mouth set in a firm frown, “I have no idea, love. Saltzman!”

As their leader stumbles into the lounge, clutching on the couch’s edge to avoid sliding to the floor, he orders over the siren, “I don’t know what’s going on, but get to the conference room.”

With the entire team gathered together in the conference room and the siren yet still blasting away, Saltzman takes his place at the head of the table. “Pierce,” he demands from Katherine. “Why aren’t you in the cockpit?”

The brunette, appearing flustered for the first time since Caroline’s met her, wrings her hands together. “Autopilot took over as soon as that alarm started blaring. We are on a fixed course, and I have no idea where we are going.”

“I can override that,” Caroline offers quickly.

“No, Caroline,” Saltzman interrupts. “This is a fixed course from SHIELD. We are being called back because of some emergency attack-”

There is a loud burst of static behind Lexi, and the entire team whirls around defensively to face the large screen in the back of the conference room which has flickered to life.

There is a bright white light which gradually fades to a black background. Red words burst out of the center, splitting the screen in bold font.

“Out of the shadows,” Katherine reads in horror.

“And into the light.” Caroline’s face is comically surprised, her mouth dropping to her chest.

“Hydra,” Klaus concludes emotionlessly.

There is intense silence for a moment that stretches on painfully for centuries before Stefan question quietly, “Isn’t Hydra gone? Hasn’t it been for seventy years?”  
Saltzman shakes his head, his eyes bulging out of his head. “Hydra was a cruel and villainous organization grown out of the Nazis, their sort of SHIELD, in the ‘40s.”

“But it ended,” Katherine continued with narrowed eyes and a suspicious expression, “when SHIELD, then known as the SSR, arrested its leaders for war crimes. Some scientists were later recruited by SHIELD. It is supposed to be gone.”

“Or not,” Klaus offers with an edge to his voice. “It seems Hydra has remained alive in SHIELD throughout the last seven decades.”

Slowly, the truth sets in.

“SHIELD has fallen,” Lexi realizes in shock. “If Hydra rises to this calling…” she trails off grimly.

“They won’t.” Stefan reassures Lexi by placing an arm around her shoulder in comfort, though his best friend still frowns with concern.

“They will,” Caroline states plainly with growing horror, glancing up from her phone. “They have. Ten minutes ago, Captain America barely stopped three Helicarriers from firing on three million targeted innocents in Washington DC. It’s plastered all over the internet!”

“What will happen to SHIELD now?” Lexi asks, echoing the question that is on all their minds.  
Saltzman speaks with a dreaded finality,

“There is no SHIELD now. It was always Hydra.”

_To be continued…_


End file.
